Chapter Nineteen

A shout from atop the curtain wall had Eyreka running down the steps, glad that her ankle no longer pained her. She held her breath. Augustin’s daughter had been expected for more than a fortnight now. Truth be told, her husband had not seemed overly worried, but she had been on the verge of sending a group of Garrick’s men out to find Angelique, had she not shown up today.

“Armand!” came the relieved cry from Jean who gave the signal for the heavy gate to be swung open. “Find Augustin, she’s here!”

Eyreka’s days had been filled with activity. From the day-to-day running of their holding, the distilling of healing herbs, and the inevitable small crises that still seemed to arise between Augustin’s men and Garrick’s guard, through it all she worried over the delay. She smoothed her skirts and pushed her hair back over her shoulders. The first impression was the most important, and she wanted to appear calm. And by the gods, she wanted Angelique to like her.

Her new daughter was finally here, and she felt as if the sun had finally come out after weeks of rain. She had bolts of cloth spread out in the solar waiting for Angelique’s inspection. Whichever color the little girl chose, Eyreka was prepared to sew a new chainse and bliaut for her tonight while the little one slept. Then she would cut thin strips into ribbons to braid into Angelique’s hair.

Eyreka could barely contain the excitement that had been building inside her, waiting for the little girl to arrive. She had so many plans. Augustin had mentioned that he would soon begin the difficult task of selecting the man who would be her husband. When she had prodded him to tell her when he would decide, he shrugged and said he did not know.

Not one to look down upon her good fortune, Eyreka planned to begin the young one’s tutelage at once. There were so many aspects of running a household that must be taught, she scarce knew where to begin.

“Papa!” a young voice cried out, interrupting her thoughts.

“ Ma petite! ” Augustin answered gruffly, swinging his daughter in his arms and wrapping her in his embrace. “Where have you been?” he demanded, trying to sound stern.

Angelique looked up at him and batted impossibly long dark eyelashes, “I had many things to pack, papa,” she answered, kissing him on both cheeks.

“Come.” He set her down gently. Taking her arm, he turned her toward Eyreka, “There is someone who wants to meet you.”

Eyreka stepped forward and knelt before the young girl. “Welcome to Merewood Keep, Angelique,” she said soothingly, “I hope you will be happy here.”

A dark look flashed across the girl’s pretty features, “I can never be happy here,” she snipped out. “I will not be happy here.”

Eyreka watched in confusion as Angelique turned away, swinging her long dusty braid of hair back over her shoulder straight into Eyreka’s left eye. The pain was instantaneous as the grains of dirt scratched deeply. Eyreka covered her eye with her hand and shakily stood back up.

“Then I can only hope that you will change your mind, little one.” Though the emotion bubbling within her could never be construed as kindness, Eyreka strove to find the emotion. The child was obviously overtired from the long journey and Eyreka tried to excuse her behavior. Being thrust into a new situation, at her tender age, was no doubt behind the petulant attitude. Eyreka started to feel sorry for her. “There is much here to be enjoyed.”

“I like living in London,” the young girl challenged, narrowing her eyes and jutting her pointed little chin up at her in defiance.

Eyreka recognized the display of bravado and silently applauded the child for not letting her new situation reduce her to a bout of tears.

“Come,” she said quietly, offering a hand toward Angelique. The determined child slapped it away, and before Eyreka had time to react and rethink her approach, the child kicked her. Eyreka thought the bone of her shin may have cracked with the force of the unexpected blow, as pain streaked across the front of her leg.

“Enough!” Augustin bellowed, taking a hold of his daughter’s elbow. “You are to apologize to my wife immediately.”

Tears welled up in the cold blue eyes that stared up at her; Eyreka’s heart sank. The child’s reaction to her should not have been a shock. Angelique was treating Eyreka much the same way she wanted to treat the Normans who now held the title to her family’s holding. But she was an adult and knew the value of extending a hand in peace rather than extending one in violence.

She was disappointed that there would be no cuddling with her new daughter beside the fire tonight. No stories of her Viking gods to lull the little one to sleep. But she was realistic, the child needed time to adjust to her new family and life at Merewood Keep. It would be far different from the one she knew at court.

Eyreka straightened up and nodded to her husband. “I will leave you to show Angelique where she will sleep, husband,” she said, trying in vain not to let her frustration show. “I must speak to Gertie about our meal.”

Augustin nodded, gentling his hold on his daughter. “We shall speak of this again,” he warned.

Eyreka limped away, her head held high. For the first time in a long while, she had let her emotions guide her actions. She would not make that mistake again. Whether she was wanted or not, she was prepared to be a mother to Angelique.

Brushing the tears from her injured eye, she wondered what else the child planned. Making her way to the kitchens, she realized that she admired Angelique’s spirit. Her anger faded slightly. Putting herself in her new stepdaughter’s place, Eyreka knew that she, too, would be feeling out of sorts and difficult. Hah, there was no denying it, she still felt out of sorts with the changes at her home and, according to her own sons, she was difficult.

The evening meal went smoothly, thanks to the two maidservants who accompanied Angelique on her journey. While Eyreka watched disapprovingly, the child ordered the two young woman around until Eyreka feared they would drop from exhaustion.

“Nadienne,” Eyreka called out in an even tone, just as the young woman was about to go back to the kitchens to ask someone named Simone to create yet another special request for the little tyrant who sat on the other side of Augustin.

“ Oui ?” The young woman walked toward her and waited respectfully for her to speak.

“That will be all for tonight,” Eyreka intervened before things became out of control. “You and Bernadette must be exhausted from the journey.” The gratitude that shone from the young woman’s face made her feel better. She had not wanted to interfere but Augustin had not spoken up. Truth be told, she was not certain he was even paying any attention to his daughter at all as he was engrossed in conversation with Armand, the warrior who had brought Angelique to them.

“Nadienne!” Angelique cried out, shrilly.

The woman’s shoulders slumped as she turned back around, “ Oui, mistress?”

“I want—”

Eyreka had heard enough. “Angelique,” she said straightening her spine and placing her folded hands in her lap, hoping for an ounce of the serenity she strove to project, “one does not yell out one’s wishes,” she said quietly. “One must wait until the other person is within hearing distance before speaking.”

Augustin cleared his throat loudly, but she ignored her husband and continued, “While you were resting this afternoon, Nadienne and Bernadette were unpacking your things. Then they unpacked their own. It would be impolite to expect that they would stay up until all hours when there are many others here who could easily serve.”

Angelique’s mouth had finally closed. Eyreka smiled inwardly. Obviously the little one needed a firmer hand. The determined look in Angelique’s eyes told her that she had not been bested yet.

“I want Nadienne,” she said, through clenched teeth.

“She is going to retire for the night. Should you need anything else, either myself, or one of my maidservants, will be more than happy to step in.”

Eyreka turned away from the sputtering child, glancing at her husband. The flash of guilt in his expressive eyes confirmed that he would not gainsay her, but she knew they would speak of this later.

“Then I want Bernadette.” Angelique announced loudly, crossing her arms in front of her little chest.

“Nadienne,” Eyreka called out, “see that Bernadette retires with you,” satisfied that her own dictate would be followed and the tired maids would go to bed.

But Angelique was not to be bested. “I want Simone,” she shouted, pushing back away from the table, rising to her feet. “And I want her now!” she said, stamping her foot.

Augustin moved so fast Eyreka had little time to react. He placed his massive hands on his daughter’s shoulders and bent down to whisper in her ear. Whatever he said, the child immediately relaxed and turned into his embrace. Augustin lifted her into his arms and strode from the room without a backward glance.

“She has been too long without a mother,” Armand said quietly.

Eyreka nodded, wondering if she would ever have peace in her household again.

*

Eyreka lay in the darkness, trying to decide how best to approach her new daughter. She turned on her side and closed her eyes. There was so much she wanted to talk over with Augustin, she sighed thinking of how distant he had become since the night in the herb garden. Thoughts of Augustin’s mind-numbing kisses plagued her, while she drifted off to sleep.

“Eyreka.”

The sound of her name being called disturbed her dreams. She waved a hand over her shoulder and turned away from the sound. The hand that clamped on her shoulder jarred her awake.

“What?” She sat up in bed, blinking at the brightness of the tallow candle her husband was setting down on the table by the bed.

“I need to speak with you,” Augustin said quietly.

She looked up at him with one eye; the other was slow to cooperate. “It still hurts,” she grumbled under her breath.

Augustin surprised her by sitting down on the bed and brushing the hair off of her forehead. “I must apologize for my daughter’s actions earlier.” He leaned forward and clasped his hands, resting them on his knees. “She is not usually such a disagreeable child,” he said slowly.

“Truly?” Eyreka said, disbelief coloring her words.

Augustin gave her a hard look and shook his head.

“I see,” she said carefully, “then she did not mean to blind me?”

The choked sound that Augustin made had her looking up at him. She narrowed her eyes, but he appeared concerned.

“Nay, I do not think that was her intent.”

“Then she did not mean to render me lame?” she continued, trying to maintain her voice stern, when she really did want to laugh, now that she could look back at the little girl’s attempts to make her will known.

Augustin chuckled before trying to cover it up with a cough.

“’Tis no use, I heard you laugh,” she said in a hard voice.

“The look on your face was without price,” he said smiling.

“I am sure knowing that will help me to see better on the morrow,” she retorted.

Augustin’s gaze met hers. “I will speak to her,” he promised.

“As will I,” Eyreka assured him. “I was afraid that you did not approve of the way I had spoken to her during our meal.”

Augustin reached out and took her hands in his. A spark of awareness sizzled through her, startling her. Her gaze shot up and locked on his. His eyes were dark with passion.

“I thought that you—” she began.

“Why did you—” he said at the same time, then shook his head. “You first.”

Eyreka was unsure of just how to broach the subject with her husband. She never had to ask Addison what he was thinking. She could read his thoughts with her heart. Would Augustin think her far too bold if she asked him to bed her? Was there a way she could ask without actually having to say the words?

At her silence, he squeezed her hands, “I promise not to laugh,” he said quietly.

Eyreka gathered her courage and blurted out, “Why have you not touched me?”

Augustin dropped her hands and sat straighter. “I touched you just now. I brushed the hair off—”

“Not that way,” she said miserably. “I know of no delicate way to say this, husband.”

“Just say it then,” he urged, his voice rough.

“Did you find our joining distasteful?” she asked in a small voice.

“ Mon Dieu.” Augustin surged to his feet and began to pace. “Is that what you think?”

“What else can I think, when you have been avoiding me this fortnight past?”

Augustin pulled her to her feet and held on to her wrists. “Why did you pull back from me after I loved you?” he asked.

“I thought that you wanted me to.”

After what sounded like a growl, he said, “I should have told you how I was feeling, but I was afraid that you regretted giving yourself to me.”

“Just the opposite.” She placed a finger to his lips. “I find that I am very distracted every time you walk into the room, and—”

Her words were cut off by his mouth. He kissed her with an intensity that she felt deep in her soul. All rational thought flew from her mind. She could not speak, but she could feel.

The warmth of his battled-hardened body seeped through her pores as she moaned in pleasure. Augustin’s lips brushed down her neck.

“Let me look at you,” he rasped. “I have waited long enough.”

Eyreka’s hands fell limply to her sides. Gathering her courage, she tilted her head and looked up at him, wondering whether or not she too should be so bold. Never one to sit back and let others lead the way, she decided…bold.

“So have I,” she said, pulling his tunic over his head. Her breath caught in her throat, and she reached out to touch the jagged scar that nearly bisected his broad chest. The thick white line started beneath his collarbone and slashed across his breast, ending just above his left hip.

His eyes narrowed to slits of steely gray, and he started to pull back from her. Sensing his mood change, and sorry for it, she placed her lips on his collarbone and feathered a line of kisses along the uneven ridge of scar tissue.

“’Tis a horrible injury,” she whispered. “You could have died.” Eyreka knew without a doubt that a weaker man would have.

“Aye,” he said, watching her.

Encouraged by the heat in his gaze, she started to run a fingertip across his chest, but what she saw stopped her cold. Sweat beaded on her upper lip. She closed her eyes and willed them to focus on what could not possibly be.

“What is wrong?” Augustin asked, cupping her cheek in his hand.

She opened her eyes and could not stop the tears, or her hand from reaching out to touch the small mark above Augustin’s heart.

“’Tis no grievous injury,” he assured her, “but a mark I have had from birth.”

Eyreka caught herself beginning to trace an X on the mark. “My husband had such a mark,” she whispered raggedly.

“A coincidence,” he murmured.

“Nay,” she said with conviction, “mayhap fate.”

“A birthmark?” he chided her.

“My husband died when a Norman arrow pierced his heart.” She looked up at him, expecting anger or disdain, but the compassion and understanding in his gaze were her undoing.

“Where did he die?” Augustin asked.

“Not ten miles from Merewood.”

“When?” he urged.

“Three years past.”

“Do you think me responsible?” he asked in a rough voice.

Eyreka shook her head. “How could you possibly know the faces of the men you have killed?”

Augustin pulled her against him and dropped his chin to rest on the top of her head. “There are many I don’t even see in the heat of battle,” he admitted. “But there are the faces of those I have battled, who fought bravely and died bravely. I will carry their memory to my grave.”

“Were you here three years ago?” She hated having to ask, and dreaded hearing the answer.

“Aye,” he answered honestly. “I could have given the order to fire the arrow that took his life.”

As he held her close, the rhythmic beating of his heart soothed her. Augustin could have lied, but he did not. He could be responsible for Addison’s death.

She struggled to concentrate on what Augustin had said, his honesty. While he continued to hold her close and soothe her, she realized that finding the man who’d taken her husband’s life during a battle to secure the Norman’s hold over her people would be pointless.

Addison willingly gave his life for what he believed in, freedom to live the Saxon way of life. Could she hate Augustin for wanting to do the same? He was part of the future of Merewood Keep, mayhap her destiny. She knew that she must reach out with an open heart and trusting soul.

Later, snuggled close to Augustin’s warmth, comforted by his touch, she drew in a breath and let go of her pride. With her husband’s arms wrapped around her, Eyreka breathed in a contented sigh and drifted off to sleep.